Temporal Parameters
by Renchikara
Summary: Over the last fifty years, England has grown unnaturally fond of a TV show, and America is intrigued by this. So much so, incidently, that he's willing to ignore the fact that he'll be facing his fear of anything remotely scary. Unfortunately, as far as he's concerned, Doctor Who kind of falls into that category. USUK.
1. Chapter 1

**Okay, this is my first _Hetalia_ fic, so most of the people reading this (if not all of you) probably don't know who I am.**

**Well, hello. I'm Ren. ^^**

**This, like most of my stories, will be 3rd person, present tense (though his chapter is in past tense because it is all about America reminiscing how England first became a Whovian). And if you aren't a _Doctor Who_ fan, you may be able to understand this, though there will be A LOT of references. Not much for _Classic Who,_ as I'm unfamiliar with most of that, but certainly a lot of spoliers for the first seven series since _Doctor Who_ restarted in 2005. I may even write about Series 8 so...**

**... River: Spoilers!**

**And yes, this is a multi-chaptered fic. No angst ('cause I'm bored of that , currently. Comedic USUK is what we all need right now! XD). Well, unless you count the sad moments of _Doctor Who_ as angst (Doomsday, End Of Time P2, The Angels Take Manhattan, The Time Of The Doctor etc.)... but other than that, no angst!**

**So, uh... allons-y!**

* * *

**One**

Sure, there have been lots of clues here and there. It doesn't need a genius to pick up on that.

And as far as the countries are concerned, America is no genius. That's one of the many things he'll be guaranteed to hear from the other nations at World Meetings, especially when he comes up with another one of his crazy ideas.

America doesn't care, though. He thinks the lack of imagination in the other countries is funny.

But when exactly was England's strange, secret personality born? Some time in the early 1960s, America guesses. That's when England began to show a love of an invention he had previously been impressed but not really interested with (because apparently, books are far more fascinating, England will always remind America).

Around 1963, England began to appreciate the wonders of the television.

At the time, America didn't think much of it. _Great, so the old man is finally realising that stories are much more fun when you can watch them happen instead of reading loads of words, _America had thought back then. There was nothing more to it. What exactly had caught the smaller nation's interest? It seemed unimportant to America.

_None of my business, that's what._

But over the next few years, England became more and more fond of the television. America can remember numerous times where he called England up on a Saturday night and the latter would reply that he was 'busy'. Busy doing what? Watching boring documentaries about architecture in the late 1890s or some crap like that? That sounded like something England would watch. None of the supernatural horror movies America likes (and is _not_ scared of, thank you very much).

America had first begun to properly notice some peculiarities about England around the mid 1970s. Up until that point, England had always worn the usual smart, expensive suits to world meetings, so why in God's name was he suddenly showing up in a scarf? Wasn't that Russia's style? But oh no, this wasn't just one colour- no, it was stripy, and he had also apparently taken a liking to waistcoats, a frock coat (whatever the hell that was) and... well, eccentric clothing, to put it lightly.

And all of a sudden, as if in some weird, fantastical twist, England's new favourite food was suddenly jelly babies. He even offered America some a couple of times. Seriously, what was going on? America was beginning to wonder whether he should be worried about his former mentor.

Then there was late March of 1981.

There was a World Meeting on one of the last days of the month. There wasn't really much content of significance about it; after all, the usual shenanigans took place, and no discussion ended without an actual fist fight. But certain countries like America and France noticed that England was even grumpier than usual.

The island nation was dressed in a black coat, with a black suit underneath and a black tie. Plus, the stripy scarf was replaced with a black one. What was his fixation with black all of a sudden? Was he mourning or something?

And it certainly did seem like he was mourning. England was apparently very irritated about something. And when America (acting casual as per usual to enforce the illusion that he didn't really care) asked England what was wrong, the small nation replied with a sulky 'Another one bites the dust.'

'Meaning?' America had prompted, rolling his eyes at the vagueness of England's answer.

'Meaning,' England had growled, not even bothering to look up from the paperwork he was rearranging at his spot at the table, 'that four have regenerated now. Tom Baker was brilliant. Why did he have to go?' he added in a mutter, mostly to himself.

'Uh... okay...' America said slowly, not having the faintest clue what England was on about.

'It's just a bloody show... this shouldn't bother me...' England could be heard murmuring very quietly to himself during the rest of the meeting.

And that wasn't the last of England's strange behaviour. Oh no.

England had always liked cricket, but now he was _very_ fond of it, all of a sudden. And once (America swears this is true) the blue eyed nation actually caught sight of England wearing a vegetable.

A _vegetable._

'England, why are you wearing celery?' America has asked as England walked into the living room, dressed in a cream coloured frock coat (the odd fashion sense really hadn't died) and the certain green food item quite visible, tucked into his shirt pocket. The bigger nation had proclaimed a couple of days earlier that he would be staying with his former mentor for a week or so because he was bored of paperwork (and he was secretly hoping England might do it for him. The guy did overwork, after all).

'I'm going out.'

'… Wearing a vegetable?' No one could blame America for being this sceptical.

'Peter Davison wears one,' England said, quickly striding over to the mirror over the mantelpiece so that he could examine his appearance properly.

'Who?'

'The Doctor. I'm going to go see him now.'

'Yeah, I think you really might need to see a doctor, Iggy. Good call.'

England scowled. 'Not _a _doctor. _The _Doctor. The latest series starts tonight, and the BBC have invited me to watch the premier. Peter's been making an excellent Doctor so far in the last series.'

'Uh huh.' Now that America had internally confirmed that England had completely lost it, he had concluded that anything and everything that the smaller nation might be saying was complete nonsense, and so he wasn't really listening. He stretched out on England's couch, lifting up a comic book he'd brought with him for him to read.

'I probably won't be back until late,' England called as he strode over to the doorway.

America pried his eyes off the comic book. 'Whoa... you really _are _going dressed like that.'

England turned around defiantly. 'Yes. What of it?'

'Dude, it's a _vegetable. _You're wearing a _vegetable._'

'You're skills of deduction never cease to amaze me, America.'

'Okay, let me get straight to the point: _why_ are you wearing celery?'

England rolled his eyes. 'I would have thought that would be fairly obvious. The premier, of course.'

'What premier? What are you talking about?'

England sighed. 'You really weren't listening, were you? Not that I'd expect you to understand. I'm aware that it is aired in your country, but this is a British matter, and it's clearly irrelevant to you.'

America gave an annoying laugh. 'Dude, I have _no _idea what you're talking about.'

Irritated, England muttered, 'Bloody git... Try not to ruin my house while I'm gone.'

And when he finally returned, maybe about three hours later, England was in a _good_ mood.

Something very strange was clearly happening.

England went through many fazes over the years, mostly to do with the outfits and occasionally little tweaks in his personality. But he was still the same Iggy at the end of the day. The guy who would yell every curse word known to man in matter of seconds after an insult to his cooking. That was completely and utterly normal for him. That's why America didn't worry too much. Besides, it was if England was actually... happy.

The grumpy Brit? Happy? Ha! … But... yes. He was. Especially at weekends. But everyone loves weekends. A lot more than weekdays, anyway.

One night in the late 80s, America was lounging around his big house in New York. He'd actually completed all his paperwork (as he had continuously had to remind his boss so as not to get yelled at) and he found himself with an evening of free time.

The problem?

There was nothing decent on the TV.

'Aww, man...' America complained to himself as he flicked through the channels. There had to be something worth watching, right? He continued searching. Finally, he came across BBC America. He had no problem with that; he liked a lot of the British TV shows, especially the comedies (but there was no way he would ever admit that to Iggy).

'_Doctor Who_,' America breathed, staring at the screen. He'd heard of it before- some British Sci fi involving one of those weird police boxes you used to see in London. America didn't know the plot at all- after all, he'd never really given it much thought? Why name a sci fi '_Doctor Who_'? Wasn't it about aliens or something, not doctors? Talking of aliens, perhaps he should ask Tony about it, as he would probably know more than America did.

This episode was a repeat from a few years before called _Robots Of Death _(America was immediately intrigued, though he was beginning to suspect he'd have trouble sleeping tonight) and it starred a guy he'd heard of before- Tom Baker. Hadn't England mentioned him before? America decided to check it out, and was completely shocked when a man with curly hair came onto the screen, wearing...

That very same scarf that Iggy used to wear. Wow. The rest of the clothes were the same too- very eccentric, rather odd. And- holy crap- was this Tom Baker guy really actually offering another character a jelly baby or was it America's imagination?

Just like England used to do...

Whoa. It looked like England really was a fan of something.

America didn't really understand much of what was happening in the storyline (he was too busy contemplating whether he should call his former mentor up and announce that he'd discovered England's secret (even though it wasn't much of a secret anyway)). He screamed rather loudly when the so-called 'robots of death' (correctly dubbed, unfortunately) began strangling the people, and was quickly forced to switch off the TV.

'Thank you very much, Brits, for the nightmares,' he muttered to himself. Despite this, he was still amused with the whole situation. So, this was the sort of thing England liked to watch? America never would have guessed.

Well, _Doctor Who _was a British show. England must have accepted it because it belonged to his people.

* * *

For a few years, England stopped wearing the weird outfits (albeit it wasn't very often anyway to begin with. Usually only on certain Saturdays. What was up with that, anyway?). It was like he had lost his passion. America later found out that these were the years when _Doctor Who_ just stopped.

Then, 2005 came.

And all of a sudden, England was striding into the next world meeting in a denim jacket, looking, America thought with a small blush and an amused smile, rather _badass_ (as he put it inside his head).

And damn, the Brit was freakin' _happy_.

America didn't actually associate this cheerful behaviour from England with _Doctor Who_ (urgh, how the hell had he even managed to fit the words 'cheerful' and 'England' into the same sentence?). After all, it had been years since America had worked out about England's 'secret'. He'd pretty much forgotten it, actually.

'Angleterre? 'Ave you suffered a brain injury or something?' France mocked as England sat down at the meeting table, smiling (yes, that's right: _smiling_. As if he didn't have a care in the world).

'Shut it, Frog,' England replied, but it was good natured. Nothing was killing the Brit's mood. Absolutely _nothing_.

'Dude... your mouth is doing this thing it hardly ever does,' America pointed out jokily. 'It's all... curled up at the sides.'

'It's called _smiling_, America. And I do smile quite often.'

'I know. Evil smirks and stuff when you outwit France or something. But your eyebrows aren't pointed down. I can see then quite easily, you know, considering.'

Oh no, wait- _now_ he was frowning.

'Considering what?' England asked.

'Considering 'ow big those monstrosities are,' France chuckled.

'You bloody wanker!'

And now England was back to being his normal self. America felt a little relieved... but also a little sad. It was nice seeing England smile, while it lasted. That hardly ever happened anymore.

'Well, I suppose this is all because you've got your precious _Doctor Who _back, non? So, are you going to be dressing up like a clown again, Angleterre?'

'What do mean by that?!'

'You know, wearing a scarf and looking completely ridiculous-'

'I wear a scarf. Does mine look ridiculous?' Russia stated in an innocent but chilling voice, appearing behind France like he was there all along (hell, maybe he _was_).

France shivered visibly. 'Non, non, not at all!' he said quickly, not daring to turn around and face the creepily smiling Russian.

'Such idiots, aru,' China muttered from the seat next to England.

'So,' America began, taking a seat on the other side of the Brit as other countries began filing into the meeting room, '_Doctor Who_'s that sci fi of yours with the guys who dress up strangely, right? And that old phone box?'

England smiled again. It was brief but genuine. 'That's right. It started again about three weeks ago. The comeback has been an immediate success. You remember it?'

America looked thoughtful. 'Sure. I watched an episode once, but it was really creepy and stuff. You dressed up as one of them once. With a vegetable.' He laughed. 'Man, the story and the characters are really weird. I don't really get why you like it.'

England's smile froze on his face. He didn't speak to America for the rest of the entire meeting.

* * *

Just over a year later, on July the 8th, America had to deal with one of his worst nightmares:

A drunk, emotional England.

And this had absolutely _nothing_ to do with America's birthday.

'Dude, you're a few days too late,' America chuckled as he pulled England away from his stool at the bar, rolling his eyes as the smaller country staggered a little, completely wasted. And England was always handling early July better every year. Over the last fifty years, he'd even been showing up to America's parties. What was the problem now?

'She's gone...' England whispered as they stepped out of the pub England had been spending the last couple of hours in, and out into the late night air. America was shocked to see that England was actually tearing up a little.

'What are talking about?' America asked, spinning England around to face him by holding onto the smaller country's shoulders.

'Rose... she's trapped in another bloody- _hic_\- universe...'

America just stared at him. '… The hell are you talking about?'

'Why am I bloody crying?' England asked, his words slurred together, scrunching up his eyebrows in confusion. 'It's not like a -_hic_\- bloody war or something. London hasn't been destroyed or- _hic_\- something catastrophic like that. Though the Cybermen and the Daleks took a pretty good shot at it. I was dealing with it _perfectly_ okay,' he continued, waving his arm exaggeratedly to make his point, 'but it was _still_ sad, so I- _hic_\- thought I'd bloody take my mind off it, but now I feel worse! Why do I- _hic_\- feel worse, America?'

''Cause you're more wasted than I've ever seen you before?' America guessed, chuckling as England continued to blather on about complete nonsense. Seriously, what the hell were _Cybermen _and _Daleks_?

'And _now_,' England ranted, 'the Doctor's all _alone_ again. 'Cept for that woman in the wedding dress who suddenly appeared. Catherine Tate was in the- _hic_\- TARDIS!' he added with a drunken giggle.

America nodded and wrapped one arm around England so he could pull him along back to the Brit's house. '_Whatever_ you say Iggy. Dude, you've _completely_ lost it, haven't you?'

'He burned up a sun to say goodbye, America! He- _hic_\- loved her! But he didn't even have time to- _hic_\- bloody say it! How unfair is that?' England promptly collapsed against the bigger country, still moaning about something called the 'Cult of Skaro'. Should he be seriously worried about England's mental state? Sure, the Brit was drunk, but he had to be complaining about _something_; there was no way he was just making all these weird words up.

America shifted the smaller and now unconscious (thank God. Now England had properly shut up) country onto his back. England's Hampstead house was roughly a fifteen minute walk from here and there was no way America was taking England on the tube like this.

_He said something about a doctor, _America thought to himself. Then he stopped walking and thought about it. _It must be that sci fi he likes... _Doctor Who...

America chuckled to himself. Seriously, England was at the point of crying about this show? Man, the smaller nation must really have a soft spot for this sci fi.

That was when America began to wonder whether it was worth checking out again...

… once he could get past the fact that he found it absolutely terrifying. There was a bit of a problem there.

* * *

**So, uh... review? Please?**

**(And thanks for reading!)**


	2. Chapter 2

**MERRY XMAS, PEOPLE! Omigod, the _Doctor Who_ Christmas special... wow...**

**So, the last chapter was in past tense because it was about America reflecting on how Doctor Who became important in England's life. This particular chapter is in present tense and is about the years while David Tennant was the Doctor, from 2007 on to 2009. I haven't included his last two episodes in this story. Yet.**

**Enjoy, and allons-y!**

* * *

**Two**

'… and that concludes the meeting for today,' Germany finishes saying, breathing a sigh of relief now that the week of gatherings in Paris for the big World Meeting is over. As per usual, he's been leading the meetings every day- it's not as if he can trust any other country to act sensibly, even France who happens to be hosting the World Meeting. No, as far as he can see, France has spent most of the week trying to molest England.

How very normal.

'So, I expect you all to fill out the documents regarding the-'

'Hurry up and wrap it up, dude!' America calls, bouncing slightly on his chair in impatience.

Germany glares at him. 'Ahem. Anyway, have a good Christmas- if your people happen to celebrate Christmas- and the next meeting will be held in Madrid in February.'

'YAY!' Italy chirps as the nations rise from their seats, most of them looking relieved at the prospect of finally leaving the meeting. 'Pasta time! Pasta time~!

'Hey, Iggy! Yo, dude!'

England (who is desperately trying to sneak out of the room without a certain French nation catching up to him) turns around slowly, a mere few feet from the door. 'What, America?' he asks tiredly.

The bigger nation catches up to him, grinning enthusiastically. 'You're coming to my Christmas party, right?'

England frowns. 'Since when were you having a party?'

'Since, like... ten seconds ago... you're my first invite!'

England sighs. 'I'm sorry to decline, but I'm afraid my Christmas is booked. I'm not sure when exactly _Voyage Of The Damned_ will be aired in your country, but I am planning to stay at home for it. Besides, I know what your parties are like. There's no way I'd be able to hear it over the sound of everyone yelling and playing silly little games.'

America pouts. 'Oh, come on, dude! I bet Japan will come if I ask him! He's quiet; you could sit with him at the party. Besides, what's 'Voyage Of The Damned'?'

'The latest episode. The Christmas special.'

'That _Doctor Who _thing?'

'Yes,' England says hesitantly in a strangely guarded voice, almost as if he's expecting America to judge him.

Which America promptly does.

'So you'd put that stupid TV show before my totally awesome parties? Man, that's horrible!' America whines.

'Did someone mention awesome?!' Prussia yells at the top of his voice from the other end of the meeting room, receiving a frosty glare from his brother.

'How dare you call it stupid?!' England hisses, his blood practically running cold at the insult to his favourite TV show. 'You bloody take that back right now, wanker!'

America laughs infuriating. 'Since when did you care so much about TV anyway? C'mon, dude, come to my party!'

'As if! You insulted _Doctor Who_! Until you've apologised, consider yourself dead to me!' With that, England spins around and strides out the room, the expression on his face sending the Italy brothers scuttling off to Germany and the 'tomato bastard' in fear.

A few feet away from the tall American nation, France chuckles. 'Do not fret, Amérique. He may forgive you in... oh, twenty years or so.'

America sweat-drops. 'Seriously? I mean, I know Iggy's the type to hold a grudge, but about a frickin' TV show?!'

'It _is_ the most the most popular sci fi in the world... I cannot believe that Anglettere's people managed to make something so successful!' France exclaims, looking dejected. 'What about my own peoples' tales of l'amour and- wait, did you say something about a party?'

_Uh oh... _The warning bells begin to sound in America's head. Still, he's not going to exclude France. 'Uh... yup! I was thinking of having a big party on the twenty-fifth and invite loadsa people!'

'That sounds fun! Doesn't that sound fun, Roma~?'

'Stupid tomato bastard...'

'And count the awesome me in! That'll make it it even awesomer than it already is!'

''Awesomer' is not a word, bruder...'

_The Bad Touch Trio all want to come... Oh God... still, that'll guarantee excitement..._

'Ve, Germany, that sounds fun! Can we go, Germany?~'

Germany sighs. 'I suppose...'

'Hey, Japan! You're coming too, right?'

'H-hai, I guess I can come...'

* * *

For the most part, the party a few days from then is a huge success. Sure, the unscheduled Nordic snowball fight _could_ have been averted, but where would be the fun in that? It's worth watching Sweden completely thrash Denmark with his usual stoic expression after Finland gets hit in the face.

Then of course, this is nothing in comparison to the Bad Touch Trio getting completely drunk and staggering around the neighbourhood (France wearing absolutely nothing), knocking on people's doors to sing carols.

Naturally, someone has ended up filming it, and five minutes later it is being uploaded to YouTube. America and quite a few of the others laugh themselves stupid as Spain later gets a load of verbal and physical abuse from Romano, Prussia is dragged away from his fellow drunkards by Germany, Austria and Hungary with her famed frying pan, and France refuses to get dressed and ends up trying to scale the Christmas tree.

_Well, that's a shame, _America thinks. _What a waste of a tree. I can't even use it for firewood after this, not after it's been tainted. And- no! I'll have to buy a complete set of new decorations!_

All through this, however, he wonders how a certain other country would be reacting to all this. A particular English nation would certainly have stopped the frog from hopping from branch to branch. So, at around eleven PM, America picks up the phone and dials a familiar number.

_'Hello?'_ comes a tired voice at the other end.

''Sup, Iggy? MERRY CHRISTMAS! The party is totally awesome! You're really missing out!'

_'Yes, yes. Merry Christmas,'_ England replies grudgingly.

'Am I forgiven yet?'

_'No.'_

America snickers. 'Didn't think so. Did you enjoy that thingy you were watching?'

England cusses quietly. _'… _Thingy_? It's so much more than that. And yes, I liked it, despite the fact that the ship almost crashed into Buckingham Palace.'_

'Huh?'

_'… Long story. It's a shame Astrid died. She would have made a good companion. So, why are you calling?'_

'To wish you a merry Christmas, why else?' America grins and resists rolling his eyes as England begins to talk about the episode. 'You're all alone over there. You should have come, dude!'

_'I don't think so. It's nice and quiet here. I wouldn't want to be surrounded by so many people, especially if one of them is that damned frog. Speaking of whom, why has he sent me this YouTube link? What is it?'_

'Uh, yeah. You might not want to click on that-'

_'WHAT THE BLOODY HELL IS THIS?!'_

America snorts with laughter. 'If it makes you feel any better, Spain and Prussia are in big trouble because of it. And France is currently scaling my Chistmas tree.'

_'If only it was a homicidal tree like the ones in the last two Christmas specials. Those bauble grenades could have sorted that bloody wino out once and for all...'_

'Dude! You're freaking me out! You mean Christmas trees can actually k-kill people?'

England pauses, and America likes to pretend that he can actually see the other smiling._ '_Doctor Who_ is very imaginative, you know. You should show it some respect.'_

'Whatever, man. Did you like my prezzie?'

_'… I suppose a bottle of red wine was your idea of a joke.'_

'You may have a drinking problem, but I'm sure you can get as wasted as you want on Christmas. And there's no way I'm opening your present.'

_'Why not?'_

'What? So I can get punched in the face like with that birthday gift you gave me?'

_'And perhaps the present is something you might enjoy,'_ England says in a quiet, musing voice.

'Well, I'm not taking any chances!' America laughs. 'But thanks for giving me a present, anyway.'

And when America puts the phone down after a rare call where he and England didn't argue as much as they usually does, he begins to wonder whether _Doctor Who_ really is changing England's temperament slightly.

And it actually feels like a good thing.

* * *

Almost a year later, America is faced with another _Doctor Who_-related confrontation at another World Meeting.

'Ah... hello, America,' England greets the taller country as he takes a seat beside America.

'Um... actually, I'm not...' comes a soft voice from the younger nation.

It takes England a few seconds to realise it's not America he's talking to. The polar bear on the stranger's lap is becoming a big clue.

'Oh, uh... Hello, Ca... Can...'

'Canada.' America's doppelgänger smiles awkwardly, apparently used to the lack of recognition on the faces of the people he's talking to.

'How are you?' England asks, feeling bad for mistaking him for America (despite the fact that this happens all the time to Canada).

'I'm doing well, thank you. I just wondered whether you could tell me whether David Tennant is really leaving the show,' Canada says in a soft voice.

England blinks. 'You... yes. They... they haven't announced who will be replacing him yet, but... yes. He is leaving. I didn't realise you...'

'… Liked _Doctor Who_? Yes, I do,' Canada says simply. 'It's one of my favourite television shows, actually.'

England is delighted. Finally, another country is showing more than a small amount of respect for great British drama!

'I'll miss David Tennant,' Canada says quietly. 'He was a good Doctor...'

England nods. 'We'll all miss him, believe me. But the BBC will find someone worthy of replacing him.'

'Hey, Iggy! Dude, who are you talking to?' America exclaims, bouncing joyfully into the meeting room.

England rolls his eyes. 'Your brother.'

It takes America three seconds to realise Canada is there. 'Oh, hey bro!'

'Hi, America,' Canada says quietly with a friendly smile, but America's voice is already booming over his.

'So, Iggy, guess what? That guy who plays that weird character off _Doctor Who _is leaving.'

'I am well aware that David Tennant is leaving the show,' England says. 'How do you know about that?'

'Everyone's going on about it online. There are loads of... fangirls or whatever they're called... saying that they'll never be happy again and that they might even stop watching it-'

'They said WHAT?!' England shouts, his chair falling backwards as he quickly stands up.

'Well, they're upset 'cause this character's gonna die and they don't want that-'

'He's not going to die!' England shrieks, gaining the attention of every other nation in the meeting room. 'He's going to _regenerate_!'

France laughs. 'Ranting about the plot twists in _Doctor Who _again, non?'

'That's no reason to stop watching!' England cries. 'The Doctor _must_ regenerate! It's an important element to the show! Even if he changes his face, the story goes on, and he's still the same character!'

'Calm down, man,' America says with a chuckle. 'Just a TV show, remember?'

'They can't judge the future performance of the show without even knowing who the new Doctor is going to be!' England growls, lowering his voice. 'This is bloody outrageous...'

'It may be... as you put it... _outrageous_, but is it relevant to the meeting which is about to take place?' Germany interjects as he enters the room, motioning for everyone to sit down.

England glares at his feet. '… No.'

'Then if we could kindly leave all irrelevant drama out of the meeting room, that would be much appreciated,' Germany states.

'Like that's ever going to happen, aru,' China mutters.

* * *

'Hey, Iggy!' America greets as England opens his front door to find the younger country on his doorstep. 'Can I come in?'

'No.' England slams the door and leaves America standing outside, blinking in confusion.

What the hell did he do wrong this time? America is pretty sure that he hasn't insulted England's cooking/eyebrows/personality or anything else that might anger the smaller nation over the last few days.

'Are you mad at me?' he calls.

'Not yet,' England's muffled voice replies.

'Huh?'

'I will be if you come in. Probably.'

'Why?' America asks, tilting his head in confusion.

'Do you have any idea what day it is?'

'Uh... the fifteenth of November?' America checks his watch to make sure. 'Saturday...?'

'Correct. Do you know what this means?'

'No.'

England opens the door a tiny bit and peaks out through the crack. 'The Autumn special of _Doctor Who_, _The Waters Of Mars_, is airing tonight on BBC One. You cannot be here.'

America pouts. 'I'm not gonna stop you from watching your TV show. Jeez...'

'That's not what I'm concerned about,' England continues, frowning deeply. 'The synopsis suggests that this will be one of the scariest episodes ever. I'm hardly going to be able to keep track of it over the sound of you screaming, am I?'

'Dude,' America whines. 'I'm not gonna get scared!'

'Yes you will,' England argues. 'This will be one of David Tennant's last episodes and you're going to completely ruin it.'

'Come on, man! Let me in!'

'No.' England tries shutting the door on America but the bigger nation insists on pushing past, much to the annoyance of the Brit. England stands in the same spot, still facing outdoors, not daring to turn around and face one of the few things that might actually stand in the way of his beloved TV show.

'America. Out my house. Now,' he says through gritted teeth. 'You're too much of a distraction.'

'Then just ignore me,' America says cheerfully as he makes his way over to the living room door.

'Kind of hard to do,' England murmurs very quietly, knowing America can't hear him.

'Hey, Japan! What are you doing here?'

'England-san invited me over,' says Japan's voice from the living room. 'I've heard a lot about this _'Doctor Who' _and I wanted to try it out. Apparently this new episode will be quite scary. Are you sure you will be alright watching it, America-san?'

'Who, me? Hell yeah, I'll be fine!'

England closes the front door and makes his way to the room containing his guests, both invited and uninvited. 'As you can see, America, I do actually have company.'

But America has already made himself rather comfy on the couch and is pulling a burger out of the bag he brought with him. 'Chillax, dude. Japan doesn't mind me being here. Right, Japan?'

'N-no, I do not mind.'

'Okay. So there's no problem!' America says joyfully, standing up quickly to drag England down onto the sofa, right beside him. 'When's it on?'

'In a few minutes,' England says irritably, scooting over to the very edge of the sofa. He knows what America's like when he's scared and he'd prefer it if he keeps his distance and doesn't end up as something that America will desperately cling onto. From across the room, sitting in the armchair, Japan shoots England a sheepish smile which clearly states that he too knows what the outcome will be for America, regarding anything remotely scary.

And so the episode begins. The joke regarding the words 'State your name, rank and intention' followed by 'Doctor. Doctor. Fun' cracks America up, so England assumes that the younger nation at least finds _Doctor Who_ amusing if anything.

But then the water zombies start attacking the other characters. In fact, the situation escalates very quickly. As of yet, America hasn't screamed, but his eyes are wide in terror. England finds himself actually managing to draw his eyes away from the screen for a few seconds at a time to stare at America. Why isn't he reacting the way he should be? Isn't he as scared as he should be?

After doing this for about the fourth time, England looks back at the television right at the precise moment of a terrifying jump scare. Caught off guard, the small nation yelps in surprise, to the amazement of both America and Japan.

'England-san, are you alright?' Japan asks.

'Fine, I'm fine,' England mutters, mentally face palming. Dammit, why the hell did that have to happen? If he'd been watching the screen then he might have seen it coming.

'Dude, you're more scared than I am!' America laughs, trying the cover up the quiver in his voice.

'Bloody shut up...' England growls. He's never going to hear the end of it, is he?

'Do you need someone to comfort you?' America mocks.

'You just want to cling onto someone because _you're_ scared!' England says defensively.

'Y-yeah right!' America says with a nervous chuckle.

But England's honour is restored (sort of) a few minutes later when America shrieks really loudly and pelts from the room, declaring that he can't take it anymore. England and Japan both check their watches to see how long it took this time. Thirty-two minutes and twenty-seven seconds. No new record.

America has taken refuge in England's bedroom, something he's sure the older nation won't be too happy about when he finds out. He dives towards the bed and buries his head in the pillows, whimpering in fear. Sheesh, he _was_ actually enjoying _Doctor Who_! Up until it got so scary, he was seriously considering watching it more often, even if the plot didn't really make any sense to him. And it's nice to think that even England was frightened by it, like it's completely normal to freak out during horror scenes.

'Why does Iggy like it so much...?' he whispers hopelessly.

* * *

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